


how to remember your soulmate's name, a guide

by RK7200



Series: a guide on soulmates [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multi, Nobility, Soulmates, duke aegir's trash parenting, ferdinand and bernadetta will be best friends, ferdinand carrying a conversation for two people, ferdinand plays the violin, i am ferdinand von aegir, oh my god they were roommates, sticky notes, uniting over their trash fathers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-11-24 19:37:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20913017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RK7200/pseuds/RK7200
Summary: “My name is Ferdinand von Aegir,”he wants to say. He wants to write to his soulmate those words. Tell them who he is and read their name in turn.Yet he can’t, knowing that the moment his name touches paper it’ll turn into nothing but scrambled lines and a wasted note.





	1. Ferdinand von Aegir

_“My name is Ferdinand von Aegir,”_ he wants to say. He wants to write to his soulmate those words. Tell them who he is and read their name in turn.

Yet he can’t, knowing that the moment his name touches paper it’ll turn into nothing but scrambled lines and a wasted note.

So instead he writes, _“I like tea, how about you?”_

_“Coffee,”_ his soulmate replies, not the first, but still so blunt and sparing with his words. 

Ferdinand readies himself to write in his smallest font to ensure that his lecture on why tea was superior to coffee would all be on one note. 

_“Of course coffee is nice, but tea is...”_  
  


* * *

  
“These are notes,” his father says, placing a stack of yellow tacky squares into Ferdinand’s hands, aged twelve with boundless curiosity and energy. “Whatever you write on them will be sent to your soulmate.” 

“Like mail?” He could feel his brows drawing together as he squints at the blocks in his hands, lifting two fingers to try and peel a note off only to be harshly whacked. 

“No, boy,” his father says, “Never waste a note, Goddess knows what a blank note will do for a first impression.” 

“What should I write then?” he asks. Staring down at the blank yellow blocks. “A formal greeting?” 

“No, not an introduction,” his father says, walking over to his office desk to find a pen. 

“Why?” He stays rooted to his spot, fingers trailing the coarse paper. Its texture was pleasing, but its color was still tacky though. 

“You can never write your name on your note,” his father says, and if sensing Ferdinand’s retort he continues, “The Goddess forbids it.” 

Ferdinand looks up with his father, eyes too wide and mind too young. 

His father rips the notes from his hands. “There is no ‘whys’ or ‘buts’ about it.”

He pulls Ferdinand’s wrist with his others and stood the boy in front of his desk. “Now write.” 

What, he wants to ask. What is there to write?

How to start a conversation without a formal greeting?

“Write,” his father repeats. 

_“I am Ferdinand von Aegir,”_ he wants to write. _“And it is a pleasure to meet you.”_

But his father’s eyes are cold and his grip painful, so instead he writes, 

_“Good day, I look forward to knowing you.”_

His father huffs, as though somewhat pleased and gestures to Ferdinand. The boy catching his signal and with nimble hands peeling the note off and finding it gone to the wind moments later, leaving orange wisps behind in its place. 

“Beautiful,” he gasps. 

His father scoffs and shoos him off.  
  


* * *

  
The next day he wakes with a purple note near his pillow, finding neat loopy handwriting that says,

_“Likewise.”_

Ferdinand feels warm, despite the way his father had rolled his eyes. “That’s an insult, boy. Look at this, a one-worded note for a reply? They think little of you.” 

_“Of course, I wish to know you better as well,”_ he wants to write. _ “You are my soulmate, right?”_

Instead, his father’s hands were wrapped around his wrist as he instead says, _ “You’re quite rude, aren’t you.”_  
  


* * *

  
_“Yes,”_ his soulmate had replied the next day and his father’s face turned the most interesting shade of red. 

“What a cretin!” his father yells. “Such disrespect!” 

He wants to laugh instead but restrains himself. 

That day, under his father’s heavy stare and harsh hands, he writes, _“Have you no manners?”_  
  


* * *

  
Ferdinand wakes up with a purple note that had only one word, _“No.”_

He laughs, this time, in the privacy of his room. Finding that he likes the way his soulmate writes the word very much as he cradles the notes in his hands. 

He brings the note to his father, the man turning even redder this time. Fuming with anger at the mere word on the note. “Don’t reply, clearly your soulmate is a lost cause.” 

His father crumbles the note and throws it into the small trash can near his desk. 

Later, while his father was busy with another mistress or so Ferdinand sneaks into his office. 

No, he thinks. 

What a nice word.

_“If not manners, what do you have?”_  
  


* * *

  
_“A brain.”_

Ferdinand laughs again. Trying to stifle the sound in his blanket lest the servants catch him and report him to his father for acting so un-noble. 

_“Even I have that,”_ he writes, finding his words not as elegant as his soulmate, but he hopes they’ll like it just as he likes theirs. _“But I suppose you must have some wit about you.”_

Ah, maybe that was too forward?

_“Small as that wit is.”_

There, that was better. 

Once again with quick fingers, he peels the notes off, letting it dissolve into nothing but orange specks once more.  
  


* * *

  
_“I doubt your intelligence exceeds mine.”_

Drone, monotonous, is what Ferdinand imagines his soulmate to be. Utterly boring yet fascinating at the same time. 

_“You’re wrong, you know. But I’ll give you a chance to change my mind.”_

Another note went with the wind, leaving fiery sparks behind them as they go.

_“I don’t need to prove anything to you._

Harsh as well and easy to offend, Ferdinand thinks. A soulmate who is quick to anger just as he is to resort to insults. 

_“Fine, I guess I’ll just assume that I am smarter than you.”_

He finishes the last word with relish, finding joy in how the note fades away. 

Scribbled out words, _“- I have no time to argue with you.”_

Almost got him, Ferdinand thinks. What a shame. But he cannot resist the smile pulling at his lips. 

_“It is almost as though you know that you’d lose. For that, I’d say you are quite smart for giving up before being humiliated.”_

And so begins another rebuttal.  
  


* * *

  
_“Hey, where were you born?”_

_“You can’t ask that.”_  
  


* * *

  
_“Tea is great,”_ he writes. 

_ “Absolutely no taste, but what else is new.”_ His soulmate’s handwriting has gotten sharper, the l’s taller and their loops smaller. 

_“It’s you who have no taste, please, coffee? How disgusting._ He supposes his has changed as well, becoming more rounded and circular. 

It is as though we are matching, he thinks. But in reverse.

He almost blushes at the thought.  
  


* * *

  
_“When is your birthday?”_

_“You know I cannot answer.”_  
  


* * *

  
_“Do you play an instrument?”_ he wrote, curious. 

_ “I am too busy caring for my liege to pursue such pointless hobbies.”_ Liege, really, who uses that word? Ferdinand thinks fondly. Tracing the sharp l’s and small e’s with care. With the increase in the frequency of this ‘liege’ Ferdinand feels as though he should be worried for his future. He wasn’t going to be the third wheel, is he?

Goddess, please no.

_“I play a variety of instruments, but I find that the violin is a favorite of mine.”_ The piano was a close second and the flute a far third. 

_“You seem like the type.”_ Ferdinand can almost see the sneer behind that. It was curious as to how vividly he can imagine his soulmate. 

_“I am a talented man, what can I say?”_

_“Talented in all things but useful, it seems.”_

Ouch, Ferdinand thinks, as he writes, _“Violins are quite useful, but I doubt a barbarian like you would understand its beauty.”_

Ferdinand thinks that his soulmate could be quite suited for anything if they really put their heart to it. After all, they _are_ his soulmate. 

_“If you just give it a try, I think you’ll enjoy it,”_ he continues. _“I would recommend the piano.”_

It was an odd thing, he realizes, to imagine a figureless shape playing in accommodant to his own violin. But he can already imagine it now, his soulmate’s long fingers (for they must have-) and frown as they play. Just as sharp as their words.

Just as charming, as well. 

What unnoble thoughts, Ferdinand thinks. Yet a blush still find its way onto his cheeks and a smile to his lips.  
  


* * *

  
_“What is your name?”_ he wants to write. _“How do you look like? Do you have brown hair? What color are your eyes, I imagine them to be dark, just as your dreadful coffee, am I right?”_

Instead all he wrote, all he could write was, _“How was your day?”_  
  


* * *

  
_“Do you like animals?”_

_“Not particularly,”_ his soulmate writes back, and it was not completely unexpected. Ferdinand cannot really imagine a different reply, but still. 

_“Why ever not? Are they too beautiful for one such as yourself?”_

_“They are time consuming. Rather than taking care of them, I would rather care for my liege.”_ There it was again. His soulmate’s other soulmate it seems. Always mentioned and present within their conversation.

_“Always you with your liege, tell me, am I really your soulmate?”_

_“What are these notes but proof of that?”_

_“No, but, am I more important than your liege?”_

_“You sound like a mistress asking her lover when he’ll abandon his wife and sink into her bosoms instead.”_ Ferdinand knew that his soulmate’s long replies would be to insult him. They were just infuriatingly rude like that. 

_“Am I the mistress? Aren’t I your soulmate?”_

_“Yes.”_ Ferdinand feels himself almost tearing the paper with his rough writing. 

_“Yes to what?”_

_“Yes.”_

Goddess, does he feel like the mistress right now. And that was not a thought that Ferdinand ever known he’d have one day.  
  


* * *

  
_“What is your liege’s name? Is she beautiful? More so than I?”_ No, that was too forward. Ferdinand crosses that note out. 

_“I am still quite mad, you know.”_ There, that was better.

_“Noted.” Goddess, Ferdinand’s soulmate was absolutely infuriating. _  
  


* * *

  
_“I am Ferdinand von Aegir, you might think my hair and eyes are a bit too bright for one as ‘dark’ as you are but I think that you’ll find them quite pleasing. I feel like we’d match somehow, even if I know not of your appearance. I wish I know-”_

Instead all he wrote, all he could write was, _“Let’s talk again.”_  
  


* * *

  
“What is this?” his father spat, holding up the tacky orange notes. 

“They’re mine,” he answers, age fifteen with cracking voice and lanky stature. “Father.”

“What did I tell you about your _soulmate_.” The last word sounded vile on his father’s tongue, spoken like blasphemy and death. 

“They are a lost cause,” he mumbled, finding that he could not match his father’s glare.

“And so what is this, Ferdinand?” His father raises the notes into the air. “Notes don’t just disappear!” 

“You don’t know that,” he retorts, shackles rising.

His father slams his hand on his desk, Ferdinand’s notes being crushed under his heavy hands just as his rising confidence. “Don’t get smart with me, boy.”

“But- Father-”

“But, nothing! Your damned soulmate is a commoner, Ferdinand!” his father shouts, raising a shaky finger into the air as he points accusingly at Ferdinand. “There is no other explanation for it! I thought your match would be another noble and yet- their rudeness, complete lack of manners tells a different story. They’re a commoner!”

“Father-”

“And do you know what- who we are?” his father asks, shaky finger still pointing at Ferdinand. “Or has your puppy love rotten your brain?” 

“We are nobles.” He finds that he could not look at his father, instead he looks at the notes that were slowly being crumbled in his father’s grip. 

“Not just any nobles. We are of the Aegir family,” his father says. Slamming his hands down once more. “And what do Aegirs not do?”

“We- we-”

“Where’s your confidence now, boy? Come, let me hear your answer,” his father sneers. 

A beat and then,

“We don’t marry commoners.” The words felt like snakes, ugly and venomous as they slither out. 

“Exactly,” his father says, his pudgy face set in a sneer. “So this?” 

His father crumbles the notes in his hands. “This is useless. It won’t go anywhere.” 

He knows that his father cannot destroy the notes, that there was no way to be rid of them. And yet as he watches, still as stone, as his father toss the notes- his notes, his- outside and into the winds a chill settled around him. 

Ferdinand wanted to reach for it, to jump out the window and catch it in his hands. 

“Forget about that commoner, boy, there are much more viable candidates for you.” 

Who? Ferdinand thinks, feeling something molten rising in his chest. Who would be good enough? 

_“Of course, I wish to know you better as well,”_ he wanted to write, once. _ “You are my soulmate, right?”_

Now he wishes he could just say- just once- face to face, “My name is Ferdinand von Aegir, your soulmate.”

Now he wishes he could just say- just once- face to face, “Let’s get to know each other better.”

And his soulmate would smile, more of a smirk Ferdinand imagines, and say, “Likewise.”

But as he watches as his note disappears into the dark forest below, knowing that he can just run now and reach for it- that he can run now and find it if he searches hard enough- that if he can just spend enough time in the dark forest and bushes he can- that if he can just- 

Yet, as he looks at his father, Ferdinand knows that he can do nothing.

Ah, I should’ve written a farewell, he thinks. 

When the dawn breaks- when the sun begins to rise- Ferdinand will wake up with no rude soulmate and tacky notes to his name. Nothing beyond a contract marriage and a noble title worth its weight in gold. 

What is your name? He would’ve asked, and his soulmate would chuckle, their smile grim but lovely as they would ask for his first. Stating how rude it was and he would laugh, fire heating his cheeks as they look at him with dark eyes and the scent of coffee in the air. He would then say-

“I’m your soulmate, Ferdinand von Aegir.” 

And they would laugh again, low and raspy. And they would say theirs. They would say, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ferdinand von Aegir.” Sharp and sarcastic, as if his noble title is a joke to them. And Ferdinand would act affronted, but a smile would pull at his lips all the same. 

Or better yet, they would just say, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ferdinand.” As though they know not of his noble title and has no care for it. And Ferdinand would act affronted but cherishes it all the same. 

Ferdinand looks at his father now, age fifteen and still so young and he wants to cry. 

He doesn’t, because Aegirs don’t cry.

I am Ferdinand von Aegir, he thinks. The Aegir heir. 

And Aegir heirs don’t have commoners for a soulmate.


	2. Ferdinand von Aegir and Bernadetta von Varley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wherein ferdinand meets his new fiancee and finally meets a rude noble.

That day Ferdinand did not write a note- couldn’t as it were. With it off in yonder along with his dreams. Instead, he buries his head in his pillow pretending that the itch around his eye was just that- an itch and nothing more. 

Do you like cars, he would’ve asked today. What kind? You seem like the type to like the expensive ones to me. 

I don’t, his soulmate would’ve replied like Ferdinand thought he would. I prefer to drive for my liege instead. 

Then Ferdinand would whine, once more, about his soulmate’s obsession with their liege and- and-

What would they say? What-

* * *

  
Do you like cake? he would’ve asked, once, if he could. I imagine not, but-

I don’t, his soulmate would reply. You seem like the type, though. 

I am, he would’ve answered a smile on his lips. And I was right, you really are too dreary for the treat. And what is it, you’re saving all the sweetness in the world for your liege am I right?

Yes, indeed, his soulmate would reply. It seems that you gained some intelligence after all. 

Excuse you, Ferdinand would reply. With a huff and rough letters but a smile all the same. I was always intelligent. 

Debatable, his soulmate would write back. Something whimsical and light in his words and Ferdinand would laugh as he pretends to be angry. 

And then- and then-

* * *

  
A single note ends up in his bed one morning, _“Good day.”_

So you finally wrote to me first, he thinks, laughing. So this is what it takes for you to take the initiative. 

He laughs, feeling his eyes sting as he holds the note near to his heart. 

Good day to you, too, he would’ve written, if he could’ve. I am still here, I wish to speak to you. 

He can’t say that, of course, because Aegirs can’t consort with commoners. Can’t have a soulmate with rude words and sharp insults but charming prose. Can’t have a soulmate with purple notes and cutting wit.

The heir of Aegir cannot have a soulmate, for all their charm and wit, be a commoner. 

I wish I could speak with you, he wants to write, still. I wish I could see you, just once. 

He doesn’t, because he cannot. Not with his notes off in yonder along with his soulmate. 

Not with the title of Aegir looming above him and their history crushing onto his shoulders.

* * *

  
“This,” his father began, laying his heavy hand on Ferdinand’s shoulder. “Is Ferdinand, my heir.” 

The other man across from him smiles, it wasn’t pleasant by any means and Ferdinand feels that he at least needs a shower or two by the end of this ‘dinner.’

“This is Bernadetta,” the man says, placing his own hand onto the girl’s nape. The girl seems to shrink into herself even further at the touch, face turning paler as her grip on the tablecloth strengthens. 

Ah, so you do not want to be here either, he thinks as the girl glances up, her anxious eyes boring into his own. He nods towards her, getting only a weak smile in return. No- not even that, it was more of a wince than anything, fragile and soft in all the wrong places. 

She fumbles with the handle of her teacup, and her father’s grip around her nape tightens. Ah, he thinks. So you don’t want to be here either. Feeling as his father’s own roughen as the man opens his lips, “She’s a pretty girl, is she not?”

He nods, never wanting to hear his father ever describe a girl half his age to be ‘pretty’ ever again. Feeling the words slide down his back like oil and grease, disgusting and entirely unwanted. The girl’s grip on her teacup trembles even further. 

“She is,” he answers, feeling his father threatening to bruise his shoulder, “Very pretty, indeed.” 

“Thank you,” the girl, Bernadetta, replies cheeks paler than the ivory plate they were eating on, “You are very, uh, handsome as well.” 

Ferdinand forces a smile, still shaky, but it was more charming than what Bernadetta has on. Goddess, the girl looks shaken. Clearly pale and unwell. Clearly she was just as unwilling as he. 

But there is no such thing as unwilling in the face of fathers like theirs. Only ‘willing’ and ‘soon to be willing.’

“Well met, Lady Varley, I am Ferdinand von Aegir,” he begins, seeing her father’s grip tightening around her neck with each moment of passing silence. 

“Ah, yes! Well met to you, as well, Lord Aegir, I am Bernadetta von Varley.” with that said the girl ducks her head down to the expensive meal below. Cooked and prepared to perfection but no more enticing now than it was before. 

“Ah, such a lovely union is it not?” his father says with a deep throaty laugh. Something utterly fake about it and Ferdinand hates it now as he does then. 

“Indeed, such a lovely pair,” Count Varley answers, nodding sagely. Bernadetta seems to wilt further, exhaling shakily. He looks at her, the girl, his future fiancee. She is certainly lovely, with her neatly done purple tresses and elegantly done makeup. Her face was soft and her eyes round, with a cute button nose and full lips painted with a dash of rouge. Many men would be willing to marry her if they had the chance, this he had no doubt. Her nails were manicured, yet there were already ridges on them, from biting he assumes. 

Once again, Ferdinand has no doubts that Bernadetta is a lovely girl. But- but she isn’t what he wanted. She wasn’t one to say rude greetings in the morning, nor one to reply back with sharp words and cutting charm. She wasn’t one to make his heart beat with just her scrawly handwriting and dastardly insults. She wasn’t one to fight with him over coffee or tea. She wasn’t one to insult him on his enjoyment of instruments, calling him childish and lacking of all things useful to a common life. She wasn’t the one who he could tease and joke about her loyalty to her “liege” and have her call him a mistress in return. 

She wasn’t one that would say to him, “Hello, Ferdinand von Aegir.” with a sarcastic drawl and smirk.

She wasn’t the one with the purple notes and sharp l’s or leaning e’s. 

She wasn’t Ferdinand’s soulmate. 

But she was his fiancee now, the woman he will be with for the rest of his life instead of his soulmate. Because she was nobler than his soulmate, her blood purer and her family richer. 

He looks at her and he smiles, a shaky and frail thing. She smiles back, just as weak, if not more so. 

You don’t want this either, do you, he thinks as he raises a toast to their union. 

She looks at him with sad eyes and he already knows his answer. 

After tonight she will take the place of his soulmate as he will hers.

I should’ve written a farewell, he thinks, distantly- despairingly. He looks at the girl and wonders if she had.

* * *

  
“Hello, Lady Varley.” 

She smiles again, and it wasn’t a nice smile this time either. “L- Lord Aegir.”

Her hands quiver and he wishes he could sooth her, but his father looms behind him and Count Varley behind her, so instead he smiles again. Too wide and too wrong.

* * *

  
_“Tea is utterly dreadful.”_

It is not, he wishes to argue. Not as terrible as your coffee. Yet he could only hold the note close to his heart and hope that it won’t be destroyed under his father’s tyrannical hand. 

Your coffee is terrible, he would’ve replied, once. Terrible and dark, just like yourself. 

And tea is just like flavored water, like you, his soulmate would have replied. Handwriting just as sharp as his insults. 

What is that supposed to mean? he would’ve asked, knowing fully well what it means.

Truly daft, his soulmate would then say. And then- and then-

* * *

  
“How’s the weather today, Lady Varley.” 

“It- it is quite pleasant, is it not?” she answers, face pale and nails digging into her palms. 

He looks out the window towards the rain and hail.

* * *

  
_“Dogs are dreadful,”_ his soulmate wrote, one day. Handwriting still sharp and flawless. 

No, no they are not, you are, he would’ve wrote, if he could. Dogs are cheerful and beautiful and far too bright for one such as yourself. 

Dreadful, you insult me so, his soulmate would’ve- would they really? He doesn’t- answered. 

It is simply a fact, he would’ve answered. 

And then- and then- 

What would they say next- he doesn’t-

* * *

  
“Are you enjoying the desert?” 

“Yes, t-they are very appetizing,” she answers, and Ferdinand can almost see the rough hand at her neck. “Lord Aegir.” 

She barely took a bite.

* * *

  
It was during a ball, one where their fathers had orchestrated after a dozen or so meetings. Filled with the noblest of the Empire, dressed to the nines and gold lining their clothes. Only the future Empress and the heir of the Vestra house was absent, a testament to the Aegir’s influence. 

He feels stuffy, vest and cape not doing much in terms of helping him breathe. In fact, they only made everything worse. Nevertheless, he was the Aegir heir and the star of this ball. A celebration of his future union with the daughter of Count Varley. A fitting match, the guests had assured him, their breaths smelling of wine and whatever else. A pretty and subservient woman, one man had said, the perfect wife. 

He nods sharply at the man, Baron Vismut or so, he doesn’t remember- and doesn’t want to remember. He looks towards the woman of the hour, dressed in a white flowing dress that was meant to imitate a bridal gown. Her hair pulled back and tied into a bun, as she sits, alone. Her white gloves matching with how pale her skin had become throughout the course of the ball. She looks nauseous and on the verge of tears, he thinks, nowhere near a ‘perfect wife.’

He dismisses himself, glancing quickly towards his father who was inebriated along with Count Varley, both their hands up a maid’s skirt as they laugh and joke. Something obscene, he thinks, nowhere near noble. But it suited his purpose well tonight, knowing that his father will be… busy tonight, busy enough to forget about his son as he buries his pudgy head into another maid’s bosoms. 

Ferdinand just hopes that this one won’t be as bold as to claim herself his stepmother by the end of tonight. 

“Hello,” he says, sliding up beside his fiancee. Wincing as she gives a tiny shriek. 

“H- hello!” she answers. Her arms tensing as she refuses to face him. 

“You want to go somewhere more silent?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. Like he was trying to calm a bunny, he thinks. 

“I- isn’t that improper?” she squeaks, face becoming paler still. “Lord Aegir.” 

“It might be,” he answers. “To some truly prudish noble. But it certainly would be better to fall under their prudish judgment than to faint in the middle of the ball, no?” 

Please, he thinks, desperately, please say yes. 

“Well- I- I still think that- that it might be improper,” she stutters, although she was already glancing towards the empty terrace. “And- and my father will disagree.” 

“If Count Varley says anything, anything at all about this, you have my word that I will speak for you,” he assures, and seeing how she was already tensing he continues, “Please, I can see that you want to escape from their whispers just as much as I.”

“Well, you- you make a good point,” she says, somewhat calmer than before, although that wasn’t saying much either. 

“I swear that you will not suffer any slight nor advances,” he says and she seems to relax with that. 

“You, you swear?” she asks, the beginning of steel in her eyes, “On your honor?”

Then, she rapidly pales, practically vibrating in place as her fingers dig into her thighs once more. The steel in her eyes melting away into brittle glass once more.

“Not- not that I question your integrity, of course, Lord Aegir, not at all- in fac-”

“I swear, on my honor.” He holds out his hands towards her, smiling gently. “Now shall we make haste? Our respite is waiting.” 

She settles, a small- but genuine, Goddess, it was much better- smile gracing her lips. Her shaky hand placed on his as he guides her away. 

He hears the whispers, of course, and his fiancee does too. Still, he grips her hands tighter as she relaxes. Nobles whispers as loud as a commoner shout, he thinks, no tact at all. His father was too drunk to care, dizzy on booze and women as he laughs, utterly beastlike and grotesque as he buries his face none too gently on the maid’s breasts as she squealed, blush on her face as she plays coy and bats her eyelashes. Count Varley acted much the same, his arms around two maids at the same time, idly resting on their shoulders and inching further down as they serve him more wine. 

His fiancee’s eyes seem to linger on her father, and his own in turn, sad but resigned. 

“Come,” he says, gently pulling her farther away from them. “Let us part before they notice.” 

They won’t notice, too drunk on fine wine and shapely women, this he knows. No doubt his fiancee knows as well, but it was something. An excuse to pull her away from the sight that saddens her so. 

“Yes- yes, let us part,” she agrees, turning her clear amethyst eyes away from the obscene scene. 

They make their way to the terrace, empty and clear of guests. A strange silence coming over them as the whispers and chatters disappear. 

“Lady Varley, can you answer a query I have?” he asks, a hand placed on the wooden handrail of the terrace. It was fine wood, he notes, expensive and older than even him. 

“What- what is it, Lord Aegir?” his fiancee stutters, already slinking off into the shadows. Her white dress doing an awful job of hiding her. Yet she looks almost at home there, in the shadows of the terrace. Hidden away, white gown bright in the full moon, like an angel from the Goddess. 

Ah, but an angel from a Goddess wouldn’t be so fearful, wouldn’t shriek and crawl to the dark like it would be her salvation now would they. 

“You didn’t want this marriage, did you,” he asks, more of a statement than anything. She seems to jolt, as though shocked by lightning. 

“What- what gave you that i- impression, Lord Aegir,” she shrieks, fear and horror in her eyes, “Have- have I displeased you in anyway? If- if so-” 

“No, you have done nothing of the sorts, Lady Varley,” he soothes, shaking his head slightly. Wanting to reach out and comfort her but knowing that she would run before she would accept his comfort. “I can see your… hesitance with this arrangement. Please, do answer me honestly, your answer will not offend me, I swear on my honor that it would not.” 

“But- but this-” she stutters, hands trembling. Fear and horror etched on her soft face, meant for smiles and laughter instead. 

“Please,” he pleads. 

She gulps, looking at him as though searching for something before lowering her eyes once more. “Well- well I wouldn’t say hesitant, but- but I supposed it wasn’t my- my dream. That’s all. I’m- I’m sure that- that you would be a wonderful husband, Lord Aegir and I would- am be glad to be y- your betrothed.” 

“Your dream, do you perhaps mean a soulmate?” At the mention of her soulmate his fiance seems to brighten and wilt at the same time. 

Ah, he thinks, so you are the same as I.

“Yes- yes, well, I suppose so. How- how about you, Lord Aegir,” she asks, eyes drooping and Ferdinand had no doubts that she was recalling her soulmate’s words right this moment. “Not- not that you have to answer of course, but- but-” 

“Yes, I had that dream as well,” he answers softly, staring into the dark night that looms over them all. “Who hasn’t? Meeting one’s soulmate, spending our the rest of our lives together and dying mere breaths away from them. Isn’t that the dream?” 

She laughs, soft and unfamiliar. As though even she had forgotten what her laughter sounds like. “Yes, that is the dream.” 

“Unfortunately a dream is but a mere dream for my soulmate and I,” he says, honest for the first time in years. “For I am the heir to the Aegir dukedom and they are but a rude commoner. Is that not the same for you as well, Lady Varley?” 

“My- my soulmate,” she begins stepping out of the shadows to stand beside him, looking up at the gloomy sky. “Is from Brigid.”

“Ah,” he says and perhaps that was enough.

She laughs, brittle and rough, “Yes, Brigid. They are nice though, eloquent and honest. Not like the way my father describes their people. They tried so hard to learn the language of Fodlan- just for me and I Brigid for them. Their handwriting is shaky and yet they had tried so hard. But I am moved all the same as they continue to write to me in my home language, and I am happier still as I see them improving. My joy is as theirs as I see their happiness when I write to them in Brigid, as butchered as my words are.”

She inhales shakily and he wonders what she sees in the sky right now. “They are earnest and sincere, and I look forward to our talks everyday. Had looked forward to it. We can’t talk much, even back then, Fodlan is a hard language to learn and even harder to understand and- and they tried. And yet now- now they- they-”

She inhales once more, shakier than the last and he wonders if she’ll cry. “- they write to me everyday, still, inquiring about my health and I- I cannot answer.” 

“For you are Lady Varley and they are of Brigid,” he says, feeling his grip on the handrail tightened as she nods, weak and shaky. 

“Yes- yes that is so.” 

“Did you get to say farewell?” he asks, the chill of the night settling into his bones. 

“Yes, a final goodbye before my father done away with my notes,” she answers, words shaky and faint. “I am thankful for his mercy.” 

Is that really mercy at all? he wonders, yet remembering his own and maybe that was mercy, even slight as it were. 

“Did- did you, Lord Aegir?” she asks, soft and quiet. 

“No,” he answers. I wish I had, I wish I could. 

“Ah,” she exhales. “Do they still write to you, then?” 

“No,” he repeats. “Not anymore.” 

Not anymore, he thinks, remembering countless mornings waking up to an empty bed, devoid of a purple note and sharp writing. He knows that it is only right for them to give up and yet-

“Ah,” she repeats. “T- that is a blessing, Lord Aegir.” 

“How so?” 

“Your soulmate had made their peace, and now they are no longer trying to reach someone who cannot answer.” 

I don’t want them to make their peace, he thinks, selfishly. I want to keep their notes with me forever. I want to read what they have to say every morning, I want to wake up to their terrible morning greetings and sharp words. 

But that is selfish, and utterly unnoble. I should be happy for them, he thinks. For they’ll have a happier life without hoping for an impossible match. 

“Yes, a blessing,” he agrees. It will be a blessing, in time, when Ferdinand finally accepts this impossible dream. “Call me Ferdinand, Lady Varley.” 

“Bernadetta- please- please call me Bernadetta.” 

She smiles at him, sweet and faint. He can see the grief in her eyes and places his hand on hers. She relaxes with the touch and her other hand comes to cover his.

* * *

  
“What do you want to be?” he asks, away from their chaperons. 

“Huh? You- you mean for a living?” 

He nods.

“Well, L- Lo- Ferdinand, I had wished to be a writer,” she answers. “Writing terrible stories. U- unrealistic stories, of course, and entirely fantastical in nature. Destined to die on the streets with how poor they would sell. But it- it was a nice dream.”

“What do you wish for now?”

“It- it’ll be decided by you, Ferdinand,” she answers, desolation in her words and despair in her eyes. “But a good Duchess is what I aspire to be.”

He frowns, aghast and horrified at once. “No- no, I wouldn’t confine you in the mansion. Leaving a brilliant mind like yours wither, Bernadetta. Do you think so lowly of me?”

“Nothing of the sorts,” Bernadetta says firmly, frowning slightly. “I have no doubt of your kindness, but I- I-”

“It is not kindness to let you do what makes you happy, Bernadetta,” Fernidand says, hand once again placed over hers. “Even if this marriage is not your dream I will make sure that you will not live in misery after our union.” 

“Thank you, Ferdinand, you- you truly have been kind. To promise such for someone like me,” Bernadetta says and Ferdinand’s hand tightens are her. 

“Hush, you are a wonderful girl, Bernadetta, and I will treat you as such,” Ferdinand proclaims. 

She smiles at him, mist forming in her eyes and he smiles back, just as softly. 

“Well, won’t you mind showing me some of your works?” he asks, “I’m quite a fan of unrealistic stories myself.” 

“Wha- what? You- you- no way!” Bernadetta shrieks and Ferdinand laughs. 

“Indulge me, won’t you?”

“No way! I can’t let such trash tarnish your eyes!” 

“Wh- what? Trash? Bernadetta…” 

Ah, Ferdinand thinks. So she can be so lively as well.

* * *

  
“Lord Aegir,” his maid says, one day, as he was returning to his quarters. After his father had just broke the news of his subsequent enrollment in Garreg Mach. Not that Ferdinand had a choice in the matter, but it was still quite abrupt. 

“What is it, Miss Farland?” he asks, turning to face her. A willowy woman with worn glasses and neat hair. His main caretaker since he was but a babe. 

“Do… do you still think about your soulmate?” she asks, fidgeting from where she stands. Her hands clasps around each other, as though she was holding something. 

“No, not anymore,” he lies, as though it were fact. He wonders when is it that he’ll be able to lie to himself. “Now is that all?” 

“Very well,” she answers, bowing her head towards him. Clenching her hands harder as though she was trying to hide what were hidden inside them. “Goodnight, Lord Aegir.” 

He turns and walks away, yet his heart was screaming for him to walk back to her. Remembering the way she was holding something in her hands, and the yellow peeking through her fingers. 

Don’t give yourself false hope, he thinks to himself. You’ve lost your soulmate already, Aegir, what use is it to hope?

* * *

  
Ferdinand’s arrival at Garreg Mach was nothing special, be it the beginning of the term and all. Other students, nobles high and low ranking alike, were milling about as Ferdinand makes his was to his dorm. A dorm that he would share with another student, despite his father’s fervent protest, due to how all students were treated equal here, duke or count. 

Which was… refreshing Ferdinand must admit, but an experience either way. 

He unlocks the room, finding it to be tastefully decorated, not like the grandiose of his father’s mansion. His roommate was already there, so it seems. Moving about like a dark shadow as he organizes his own side of the room. 

“Hello,” Ferdinand greets, “Very nice to meet you, I am-”

“Aegir,” the man grits out. Turning to face Ferdinand completely. He was tall, Ferdinand must say, tall with dark bangs falling over one of his eyes. Dreary and miserable, would be how Ferdinand would describe him. Like a creature of the night who would no doubt scream at the sight of sunlight.

“Excuse me?” 

“You are excused,” the man drawled and Ferdinand immediately knew who it was. No one else would dare to address him in such a way unless they were-

“Vestra,” he hisses. 

“Took you long enough,” the man says, scoffing at Ferdinand. And something like anger begins to rise. No one has talked to him like such, with such- such rudeness! Well, no one except- except-

“Yes, well, it is a rare occasion for the heir of Vestra to show his face,” Ferdinand says, gritting his teeth, refusing to think any further, “I had thought maybe you had never existed at all.” 

“You’d be glad for that, wouldn’t you, Aegir.” 

“I wouldn’t mourn, if that were the case,” Ferdinand replies, none to happy. “But, you? My roommate, what were they thinking?” 

“We seem to agree on something, for once, Aegir,” Heir Vestra snaps, crossing his arms. “Don’t expect me to be any kinder on you for our rooming arrangements.”

“Likewise, Vestra,” Ferdinand says, watching as Vestra scoffs at him before turning away. Walking out the door, his cloak billowing behind him. Arrogant and dreary, just what he had expected of the Vestra heir. 

Goddess, him dorming with the heir of Vestra, his father would throw a tantrum the moment he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry guys, will be 3 chapters since ferdinand's and bernadetta's friendship is just so good to write about lol. 
> 
> regardless, we'll go from enemies --> friends --> lovers in chapter 3 so i hope y'all will like that. more romance and ferdibert interactions for srue and chapter 3 will be the ending, i swear guys. 
> 
> please leave a comment on your thoughts, what you liked, what you didn't like or just any thoughts really to make the author super happy and motivated!


	3. Ferdinand von Aegir and Hubert von Vestra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how the author got too invested in writing enemies--> friends that she'll delay friends -> lovers for her fourth, and really, final chapter.

Vestra ignores Ferdinand after that conversation. 

Which was, well, to begin with, surprising. And next, somewhat infuriating. 

Because for all that Ferdinand had expected and antagonistic insult and scabbing words, there had been none. Not while they were inside their room anyways. Which was, once again, strange, considering that the man in question was Vestra. And well, what was there to say other than that he was _Vestra._

That was not to say that Vestra was a perfect roommate by any means, no, quite the opposite. In fact, it was as though Vestra had intend to annoy Ferdinand to death without speaking a single word. 

How was this so, you ask?

Well, for starters it seems as though Vestra was made to annoy Ferdinand, with his infuriating habits and innocuous ticks. Which would be understandable, if Ferdinand was an idiot and didn’t know Vestra any better. 

And since Ferdinand knew better and _wasn’t_ an idiot (like his soulmate would insists-) he knew that Vestra intends on angering Ferdinand and get some petty victory when he finally rages. 

Which would never happen, of course, because Ferdinand was Ferdinand. 

But still-

Damn Vestra and his suspicious chemical experiments, damn him and his late nights heavy metal, damn him and his late night calls and check up on Edelgard, damn him and the way he would give Ferdinand a heart attack every night, damn Vestra and his attempts to lock Ferdinand out. 

Damn you, Vestra, Ferdinand thinks as he buries his head into his pillow. 

“Yes, Edelgard, I’ll-” Vestra spoke, purposefully loud.

Damn you.

* * *

  
“W- what is that?” Ferdinand asks; being strangely ensnared by the green substance that was boiling. Well, ensnared and terrified. 

“Nothing that concerns you.” Vestra added some more suspicious ingredients. “At least not yet.” 

“What does that mean?”

What Vestra had, couldn’t simply be classified by either a smile or a smirk for it was more contorted than that. “Oh, you’ll see.”

Ignoring that very unsubtle threat on his life; Ferdinand ducks out the door. “Good luck with… with whatever you’re doing then.” 

Vestra scoffs and Ferdinand can almost see how his eyes would roll back. 

So much for a noble raising.

* * *

  
“Uh… mighty fine day we’re having,” Ferdinand says with a smile. “Vestra.” 

Vestra finally looks up from the sketch of a human, with very disturbing notations on the side. Which could be the professor’s assignment to Vestra or a very detailed murder plot. Either or with Vestra. 

“Yes, well, I guess it’s slightly worse now that you’re here.” Vestra return his eyes to the drawing, once again absorbed in its stained pages as Ferdinand huffs. 

Well there goes that greeting.

* * *

  
It was once again two in the morning and Professor Byleth had assigned them an assignment on reason and its interaction with the world, that was due today and Ferdinand was not in the mood to deal with Vestra and his inane phone calls to Edelgard every five seconds and the heavy metal that was blasting in their room. 

“Vestra,” he begins, already feeling the burning at the pit of his stomach. “Would you stop that?” 

The man seems intent on ignoring him, and if it weren’t for the fact that Ferdinand had seen his shoulder twitched when his name was called, Ferdinad would’ve thought that the heavy metal had caused Vestra’s ears to go deaf. 

‘What?” Vestra asks flatly as he turns down his music (Thank the Goddess) to a level where humans can actually converse without yelling. 

“The music,” Ferdinand answers as he gestures towards the man’s speakers with as much grace as he can. Which wasn’t much, but it was something. “Stop that.”

“No,” Vestra replies with an infuriating smirk before blasting it once more. 

“Stop that, Vestra,” Ferdinand says as he stands up to his full height. “Stop that dreadful music at once.” 

“Why?” Vestra jotts down another word into his suspiscious journal and Ferdinand has a brief thought as to who the man would murder this time. “I find this music quite relaxing.” 

“Yes, for you and only you,” Ferdinand snaps; standing with his arms crossed behind the man. “I find it rather terrible and distracting.” 

“What a terrible shame,” Vestra notes as he writes down ‘travesty’ with crooked a’s and leaning e’s. 

Damn this man, Ferdinand thinks. Damn him. 

“Yes, so would you kindly stop?” Ferdinand can already feel the anger dwelling up within him. Days of no sleep with the ghastly music and terrible weather taking its toll on his temper. The discomfort of sharing a room and a strict professor who seems to not understand that Ferdinand did not and will never have the talent to be a dark knight also doing its job on his frayed nerves. 

“No,” Vestra repeats and Ferdinand sees red.

“Oh, I’ve had it with you!” Ferdinand yells; his hands raising to his own temple. 

“Why? Are you perhaps getting angry because, for once, there is no dog to lick your boots and follow your orders?” Vestra turns around in his chair as he fully faces Ferdinand. Another infuriating smirk in place and tongue ready to spit poison. 

“No, I’m angry because you’ve stepped on every single one of my nerves for the past week!” Ferdinand shrieks as he approaches Vestra. “You hold a grudge against my family, fine, I understand that much. I also hold no love for yours.” 

Ferdinand takes a deep breath as he grabs Vestra’s collar. “Fine, so you hold a grudge, but what makes me angry is your obvious childishness!” 

“Childishness?” Vestra eyes were wide and Ferdinand feels something like smugness at the man’s obvious confusion. 

“Yes, childish. That’s what you are right now, Vestra. A child using petty means to get back at me,” Ferdinand says as he shakes Vestra’s body with his arms, finally letting out his anger. “I’ve treated you with nothing but respect this past week, unlike you, and I’ve managed to put my grudge aside to make this- this- _arrangement_ and I would _ appreciate_ it if you can just grow up and realize that we are stuck and I can, and will, annoy you to no end if you continue on this childish behavior.” With that said, Ferdinand loosens his grip on Vestra’s collar and gently pad over the creases formed by his fingers. “So turn down the music _right now_.”

Vestra does and Ferdinand smiles at him. “Thank you.” 

Vestra, predictably does not respond, as Ferdinand turns back to his desk. 

Sweet silence, Ferdinand thinks as he refocuses on his runes once more.

* * *

  
“How are you settling, Bernadetta?” Ferdinand asks as they idle by the gazebo. The aroma of Almyran Pine drifts through the air. 

Ah, peace at last. 

“Q-quite well,” Bernadetta says. “Although it s-seems that the s-same couldn’t be said for you.” 

“Oh, yes, _Vestra,_” Ferdinand spits; the name feeling vile on his tongue. “Quite the character he is.” 

“Oh, is he that bad?” Bernadetta asks as she leans closer; letting her head rest on his shoulder. “I thought him quite stern but…” 

“Yes, he is that bad,” Ferdinand answers as he shifts his body so that it would be more comfortable for both of them. “The man is absolutely infuriating, and his habits all cause me grief and it is as though he _wants_ to draw my ire.” 

Bernadetta places a soft hand over his as he huffs. “Bah, no more of him. How is your roommate?” 

“She is quite nice,” Bernadetta says softly, but there is something in the way her lips quiver that makes him fear the opposite. 

“Oh, Bernadetta, you need not lie to me. If they are terrible to you, you need not lift a finger and I will have them expelled,” Ferdinand says as he tightens his hand around hers. “It is one of the perks of being the next Duke Aegir, afterall. You only need to say the word.” 

“N- no!” Bernadetta shrieks as her head leaves his shoulder and her face pales. Ferdinand frowns in turn feeling his heart twist as she looks fearful. “No, she isn’t mean, Ferdinand, not terrible at all.”

“Then-”

“She is from Brigid,” Bernadetta says as her face grows paler still.

“Oh,” Ferdinand exhales as he feels his face twisting. He reaches for her as he draws her closer. Placing his arms around her in a hug as her frame shakes with each breath. “Oh, Bernadetta.” 

Her hands come to grasp his blazer as she exhales shakily. “S- she’s so… nice, Ferdinand. So nice and wonderful and- and- when she asked about my day-” 

A sob. “It is as though I can hear my soulmate in her voice.”

They stay like that, his arms around her as she grasps onto him as though he were her lifeline, both hearing voices that would only exist in their dreams now. 

“I’m sorry,” Ferdinand says softly as he rubbed small circles into her back. “I really am.” 

“F- for what?” Bernadetta questions softly; her grip on him was weaker now but still quite strong. 

“You will never meet your soulmate because of me,” Ferdinand responds as he exhales softly. Hearing the voice of a person with no manners and no regard for his status as they wrote their words in sharp l’s and lean e’s. 

“No!” Bernadetta yells once more as her head snaps upwards. “No, d- don’t you dare say that.” 

“But-”

“I would’ve lost my soulmate either way,” Bernadetta says as her face contorts into something painful and her eyes turn red. “They were from Brigid and I am Lady Varley, there would be no future for me and them.” 

“I still feel as though it is my fault,” Ferdinand reiterates as his hands come around to resting on her shoulders instead. “If it wasn't for me, I wonder if you could’ve talked with your soulmate a bit more.” 

“Ferdinand-” Bernadetta begins before cutting herself off. “I- I guess I can understand the guilt. I, too, wonder if you could’ve had a chance with your soulmate if I wasn’t here.” 

“They are a commoner, Bernadetta. And let this not be a slight to your status, but I am the future Duke Aegir,” Ferdinand says wryly as he shakes his head softly. “My father would’ve never allowed it.” 

“But I still wonder,” Bernadetta repeats. “I still wonder about your match as well as mine.” 

“It is best not to, not for long,” Ferdinand advises. “Then you’d start hoping, and nothing good comes from that.” 

“I suppose so.” Bernadetta exhales once more as she settles her head on his shoulder once more. “Yet I still wonder.” 

I do, too. Ferdinand thinks. Imagining snarky banter as Ferdinand yells and his soulmate would argue back, imagines a warm home, not particularly lavish but tasteful, imagines cold hands and soft lips. Imagines a place where there were no titles and no nothing, nothing but him and them and this. Imagines a sharp smirk where Ferdinand would smile back. 

Imagines as his soulmate would chuckle and-

Aegirs don’t have commoners for a soulmate, he hears. Spoken roughly and harshly, spoken like it was the truth. And it is. 

Ferdinand imagines a perfect future, knowing that it will never exist. 

“We will have a happy future,” Ferdinand says softly. “You will be happy, Bernadetta, I will make sure of that.” 

“And I promise you that as well,” Bernadetta agrees, just as soft.

* * *

  
Ferdinand collapses onto his bed; his head still muddled with images of what-ifs and someone with a sharp smirk that matches his wit and tongue waiting for him. 

The room was blissfully silent, Vestra either gone or finally respecting Ferdinand. Either didn’t matter much not when Ferdinand’s ears were filled with a raspy chuckle and cold touch under a moonlit night.

* * *

  
“Watch it,” Vestra growls as a hand snaps Ferdinand backward. As he watches as a javelin flies through the space where his head once was. 

“Huh?” The hand loosens as Ferdinand fell onto the dirty ground, eyes still focused on the javelin that was now planted on the ground. 

Ferdinand startles to attention once more as the bandits approached. “O- oh, thank you.” 

But Vestra had already turned around by then. 

I thought he’d rather me dead, Ferdinand thinks as he dusts off his armor. 

No use to know what goes through Vestra’s brain, I suppose.

* * *

  
“This plant will die if you water it so much,” a voice drawls from next to Ferdinand.

“W- what?” Ferdinand stops in his task to turn around to come face to face with Vestra. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard what I said,” Vestra says before he plants a greenish seed into the soil. “Continue with whatever inane task you’re doing.”

“The professor assigned me to do this task,” Ferdinand argues, though he stops watering. “It is not inane.” 

Vestra hums. 

“Do you hear me?”

Vestra hums once more.

Goddess, this man, Ferdinand thinks as he marches straight out the door of the greenhouse hearing what sounds like muffled laughter from where he once was.

* * *

  
“Singing, I see,” a voice which Ferdinand recognizes as Vestra’s says. 

Ferdinand snaps his mouth shut as he turns around to glare at the man. He was sure that his cheeks were just as red as the fires that Vestra can conjure. “Can you not knock?” 

“This is my room,” Vestra answers flatly as he manhandled Ferdinand from attempting to shut the door on his smug face. “You would do well to remember that.” 

“Wel- you- I-” Ferdinand stutters as he was shoved aside and Vestra was taking off his metal boots. 

“Continue singing, if you wish, I will not judge. I am no Dorothea, afterall,” Vestra says yet there was the beginning of a taunting smirk on his lips. 

“I never sang,” Ferdinand argues before marching back to his side of the room. Vestra only snorts as a response.

* * *

  
Ferdinand fiddles with the sleeves of his blazers as he faces his professor’s infamous blank stare head on. 

“Professor, I must apologize. It seems as though I’ve… misplaced my work somewhere,” Ferdinand says as he withers under her arid eyes. “I swore that I’ve done it, it’s just-”

“Aegir,” a smooth voice drawls. “You left this.” 

With that, a stack of paper was shoved into his hands. The handwriting were unmistakably his and the work was none other than the assignment that he had misplaced. Apparently forgotten in his room, it seems. 

“O- oh thank you,” he says; not quite sure whether to question Vestra’s motives or not. 

“Think nothing of it,” Vestra said before he could decide as the man turns away. Their professor looking between the two of them before nodding to herself. 

“Papers,” she says as she opens her palms towards him. 

“Uh, oh, yes- papers, here, Professor,” Ferdinand stutters out as he hastily hand the loose sheets into his professor’s waiting hands. His eyes trailing on the dark figure that was once more by Edelgard’s side. 

Vestra matches his eyes and nod towards him and Ferdinand nods back.

That was new, Ferdinand notes, so he _can_ act cordial.

* * *

  
Things turn… strange after that. Their dorm was no longer covered by heavy metal every night nor was it filled with Vestra and his talks with Edelgard. Rather, it was as though a strange silence had fallen over the both of them. 

Awkward, Ferdinand thinks. Hearing the scratch of paper on pen as he scribbles more notes for how to effectively utilize reason while on horseback. One of Professor Byleth’s attempts at making him a better Dark Knight, which was, well, not working out as she hoped but the woman was insistent. 

He almost stops himself from sneezing, finding the thought of breaking the silence terrifying. Yet he reminds himself that he was well within his right to sneeze so he does. 

“Bless you.” The words were spoken softly, almost carried away by the nonexistent wind. 

“Huh?” Ferdinand spins his chair around to find Vestra still hunched over his desk. A myriad of papers spilling over his desk and onto his floor. “W- why, thank you, Vestra.” 

A grunt was his response but-

So you _can_ be polite, Ferdinand thinks as a smile wounds around his lips. 

“Say, Vestra, do you enjoy tea?” 

Vestra seems to flinch before turning around his eyes narrowing. “No.” 

Ferdinand’s smile stays strong. “Well, what do you like then?” 

“Coffee,” Vestra says.

Oh, Ferdinand thinks. Oh. 

His throat burns and his eyes itch but he smiles. 

“Well, I just happen to have a coffee collection as well. I’ve never tried them, of course, but well, they were recommended to me.” 

Vestra seems to stare at him with those unblinking yellow eyes. 

“They are simple wasting away, you know. I am not an avid coffee connoisseur and they are simply too bitter for my tastes. You will probably find them to your liking,” Ferdinand says keeping up his smile under Vestra’s unnerving stare. It seems as though the man had learned something from their professor other than reason and authority. 

“Why,” Vestra asks flatly. Still glowering, a hand set under his chin. 

“A- a thank you,” Ferdinand answers, feeling strangely anxious for Vestra to accept- which, was he truly starved for friendship?- “For earlier.” 

“Professor would have forgiven you either way,” Vestra counters. 

“Yes, I suppose so, but it doesn’t hurt to show my, ah, gratitude,” Ferdinand argues. 

Vestra hums looking up at Ferdinand once more. 

His lashes are quite long, Ferdinand realizes. Which was a nice fact, but not something that Ferdinand needs to know now. No, a fact that Ferdinand will never need to know. 

“So?” Ferdinand asks; his throat still parched as he looks at golden eyes and dark lashes. 

“Very well,” Vestra concedes, standing to his full height (which was taller than Ferdinand apparently. Too tall for a sorcerer, Ferdinand thinks childishly. It wasn’t fair) as he nods. “Consider me… intrigued with the Aegir’s heir taste in coffee.” 

“Well, wait a moment then,” Ferdinand says with a smile as he turns to one of his numerous cabinets. Knowing that this one hasn’t been open since the first day he arrived at Garreg Mach. 

Dusting off his tea set and finding a particular brand of coffee which had been quite endorsed to him up towards Vestra. “Well? Do you recognize it?” 

Vestra studies the brand, taking it from Ferdinand’s hands as his eyes seem to shine. “You have better taste than expected, Aegir.” 

“Not me,” Ferdinand repeats. Taking his own tea leaves, the Southern Fruit Blend. Which wasn’t exactly the sort that nobles would take to drinking while together. No, it was too cheap for that. Seen as more fit for commoners and their gatherings than for nobles. But Ferdinand, strangely enough, finds the taste quite agreeable.

My commoner of a soulmate had rotten your taste, was what his father would’ve said if he knew. 

“Oh? So who is it then, that have such refined taste,” Vestra questions, beginning to brew the coffee. He had a coffee brewer, of course, sitting prettily by his desk. Always seemed to be working, all day, all night. Which makes Ferdinand wonders if Vestra consumes any other liquid than coffee. 

“Someone,” Ferdinand answers vaguely. Remembering scrawly writing with severe l’s and leaning e’s. 

“Not a friend?” Vestra pries. 

Were they? Ferdinand wonders. Were they ever friends? 

Through the insults and the banter, were they truly friends? He supposes they must’ve been, to speak so casually to each other. 

Yet, the term ‘friend’ feels too limited. Ferdinand was sure that ‘friends’ did not imagine how it would feel to kiss each other. How they would not think about how dashing and charming their friend could be and how they wish they could just be swept off their feet. He was sure that they would not think about how nice it would be to spend idle days together, in a cabin or some such, arms and legs intertwining as they would laugh and chuckle, reminiscing about halcyon days. He was sure that they did not think of how they wish they could embrace each other, lips meeting and arms reaching. He was sure that they didn’t think of eloping, of running away from it all and starting anew.

“We were not friends,” Ferdinand says at last. Putting his tea cup down. “We were… more, I think.” 

“A mysterious lover? My, what a scandalous noble you are,” Vestra comments as the aroma of coffee fills the room. 

Startled laughter punched its way out of Ferdinand’s throat before he could stop it. “Goddess no, not lovers. We were, well, to put it simply, soulmates.” 

Vestra seems surprised. 

“Shocked, are you? Well, I wouldn’t blame you.” The tea was warm now, rather than scathing and Ferdinand finds comfort in its taste. 

“But you don’t write,” Vestra points out a frown forming on his sharp face. 

“It’s all in the past now,” Ferdinand says with a smile he hoped to be passable. 

“I see,” Vestra says as he pours the bitter liquid into a cup. 

Ferdinand doubts he sees at all, but he supposes he doesn’t see Vestra write any notes either. 

Nobility, Ferdinand thinks. As he smiles at Vestra once more. A strange sense of kinship forming.

* * *

  
“Nice work,” Ferdinand gasps; leaning against his steed for dear life. 

“Are you referring to me?” Vestra rasps; exhaustion in his voice and stance.

Ferdinand pretends to look around. “Well, I don’t see anyone else here, do you?”

“Aegir,” Vestra warns as the man attempts to straighten his back through the fatigue. 

Ferdinand laughs, even when the laughter pulls straight from his limited supply of air. “Yes, Vestra, you did well.” 

Vestra huffs before turning away but there was a hint of red on his ears. 

Which was, well, cute. Ferdinand thinks, brain still foggy from the battle.

“You did, too,” Vestra says the words too soft and too light, as though it was meant to go unheard. 

Ferdinand laughs as he rides next to Vestra.

* * *

  
“Want to try a new brand of coffee today?” Ferdinand asks as he shuffles through his collection. 

“More recommendations, I hope?” Vestra replies and Ferdinand hears the sound of pen on paper stopping. 

“Yes, more recommendations,” Ferdinand answers as he pulls out Black Ivory. This one highly expensive, so much so that Ferdinand had wondered how his soulmate even managed to afford it. That was until Ferdinand remembered that his soulmate had a liege. A liege that was probably a noble or rich merchant if they were able to afford a servant as educated as his soulmate. 

“Not bad,” Vestra hums as he takes it from Ferdinand’s hands. “You spend a lot for someone who doesn’t enjoy coffee.” 

“It’s wasteful, I know,” Ferdinand agrees as he settles down for his own drink. “But, ah, they are… special to me.”

Ferdinand had wished once, to share a drink with his soulmate. As he would bombard them with their favorite coffee and watch as they smile. As he and them would sit across from each other, just like this, and converse. They would be an awful conversationalist but Ferdinand would talk for the both of them and as the scent of coffee and tea blend together they would grow closer. Their hands would touch as they smile and blush. 

It was just his imagination, of course, but-

Vestra hums. 

It would be nice, Ferdinand thinks. If we can share a drink, just once. 

“What about you then?” Ferdinand asks. “You know quite a lot about tea even though you claim to hate them.” 

Vestra huffs. “It’s hard not to when someone had written me a whole book on why tea is superior to coffee.”

“Oh, a secret lover?” Ferdinand teases. “And you called me scandalous.”

“My soulmate,” Vestra replies curtly.

“Ah.”

“It is also of the past,” Vestra continues. 

It is strange, Ferdinand thinks, how alike we are. “Well, let us think no more of it then.” 

Ferdinand thinks of the bitter taste of coffee on his tongue and cold hands that would hold him. He thinks of sharp l’s and leaning e’s. He thinks of sharp insults and equally sharp looks. He thinks of a person so dashing and dreary that if they were to meet, Ferdinand would no doubt recognize him. He thinks of another lifetime when they could’ve had a life together. 

It would be nice, Ferdinand thinks. If we can share a drink, just once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I'm sorry guys but this chapter was long enough as is and i def got way too invested in writing ferdibert and their enemies -> lovers phase. but please believe in me that I'll finish with chapter 4 coming out next week. no more push back guys. once again, sorry for pushing back the finale, it's just that i want to add more to their relationship before the whole soulmate thingy. 
> 
> regardless, i hoped you guys enjoyed it! Please leave a comment on your thoughts, what you liked, what you didn't like or just anything to make the author super happy! :)


	4. I'm Ferdinand von Aegir, Your Soulmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the ending for all y'all

“You know,” Ferdinand begins. “Vestra maybe isn’t all that bad.”

“Oh?” Bernadetta leans against him once more as she lets out a sigh. “Tell me more.” 

“Well it turns out that he _can_ be polite, after all,” Ferdinand says as he pours more tea into her cup. “With, ah, a little push from me of course.”

“What did you do?” Bernadetta asks curiously as she takes a sip of her tea. “Oh, Albenian Blend today.” 

Ferdinand nods as she smiles at him. “Your favorite, right?” 

“Indeed it is,” Bernadetta answers as she takes another sip. “Although I never quite knew how you figured that out.” 

“Another perk of being a tea connoisseur such as myself,” he boasts as he pours the slightly scented tea into his own cup. 

She sets down her cup gently as she turns back to him. “Well? What did you do?” 

“I may or may not have shouted at him to get his act together,” Ferdinand answers feeling the telltale sign of his cheeks becoming red. “To stop being childish and behave like an adult for once.” 

She giggles behind her hands. “I suppose it was to be expected.”

“You would’ve done the same, no doubt,” Ferdinand argues.

“No- no, I would’ve feared for my life,” Bernadetta admits as her giggles die down and a slight flush overtakes her cheeks. “Knowing his reputation.”

“Well, he is not such a bad man,” Ferdinand argues, defending his new enigma of a roommate despite their earlier animosity. Thinking that his words may be too much he adds. “Not as bad as the rumors, truth be told.”

“He must be, to have you come to his defense like so,” Bernadetta points out. 

“I suppose so,” Ferdinand acquiesce easily. 

And wasn’t that a strange thought.

* * *

  
“Say, Vestra, I’ve been wondering about something.” Ferdinand folds his blankets as they prepare for another day of lectures from their professor. “Do you even have hobbies?” 

“What do you think?” Vestra returns as he sorts his own stacks of paper. 

“I haven’t the slightest clue,” Ferdinand admits. “That is why I’m asking.” 

“Do you think I just spend all my days following around Lady Edelgard and studying reason with no life of my own?” Vestra adjusts his collar and looks at Ferdinand from his mirror. 

“Huh? Well- uh-” 

“Don’t lie,” Vestra says as he scoffs. 

“Well, yes,” Ferdinand answers hesitantly. “I mean, I don’t ever see you do anything else.” 

“You haven’t seen enough then,” Vestra concludes as he turns around. “Well, I’ll be off now.” 

“Hey, wait-” Ferdinand calls as he trails after Vestra. “Why won’t you tell me?” 

“I don’t like to hand things out for free,” Vestra replies as he speeds up, his long legs doing wonders for his pace as Ferdinand struggles to keep up without jogging. 

“I’m just asking for your hobbies, Vestra, do you have to make everything so difficult?”

From the corner of his eyes, Ferdinand thinks he can see the barest hint of a smile. 

“Yes.” 

Ferdinand sputters but there is a smile on his face as well.

* * *

  
Ferdinand stands, soaked in the rain as he looks at the creature staring back up at him.

“I can’t take you,” he says to it.

It stares at him with beady eyes. 

“No, really,” he continues. “I can’t take you.”

Its fur was a shade lighter than black. 

“My roommate is Vestra,” he says to it. “And I doubt he likes animals.” 

It was thin and malnourished and it stares up at him. 

“Why are you making it so hard for me?” he questions as it continues to stare up at him.

A small bark.

“Fine, you win you devious animal.”

* * *

  
“What is this?” Vestra asks as the man stares at the now clean dog. 

“A dog,” Ferdinand answers as he dries its fur. 

“Why is it here?” Vestra asks as he approaches the dog with something like caution in his eyes. 

“_He_ is here because of the rain outside,” Ferdinand answers as he refuses to meet Vestra’s eyes. 

“It is raining, yes, but why did you take the mutt here?” Vestra unties his cape as he shakes off the rain from his blazer. 

“It is raining, Vestra, and the rain is cold to even myself,” Ferdinand answers. “Who knows how cold it is for a mere pup.” 

“Why here?” Vestra asks as he frowns.

“I wanted to help him.” The dog licks Ferdinand’s fingers as he chuckles. 

“This is my room as well, Aegir,” Vestra states. “You would do well to not forget that.” 

Ferdinand feels himself frowning as he faces Vestra, hands pulling the dog closer to himself as his lips thin. 

“I know,” Ferdinand replies, still frowning and iron in his voice. “But this is my room as well.” 

Vestra looks about ready to argue again as the opens his mouth but Ferdinand shushes him. 

“He will not bother you, this I promise,” Ferdinand argues. “Vestra, he was cold and shivering and so very weak. Even now I can feel his bones as easily as day even with his rough fur in the way.”

“It is raining so very hard outside, Vestra, and I fear he will not last,” Ferdinand continues as he restrains from biting his lips. “He is already on the verge of death as is and I do not want to see his corpse the next day.” 

“Just let him stay, Vestra, please,” Ferdinand pleads as he cradles the dog in his arms as he matches Vestra’s gaze head-on. The word ‘please’ was alien on his tongue and speaking it felt taboo and yet as the dog whines in his arms he does not regret it. 

“Very well,” Vestra concedes. “But if that mutt bites me-”

“Thank you!” Ferdinand shouts as he grins. “You are indeed a good man, Vestra.” 

“You do not need to flatter me,” Vestra counters but his ears are slightly red. 

It is cute, Ferdinand notes distantly before his own cheeks turn red at the thought. 

Vestra, this is Vestra, he reminds himself. Not cute at all.

* * *

  
The next day Ferdinand rises with the sun as the dog barks and licks his hand happily. Tails wagging behind him as Ferdinand laughs. 

“Quite a flatterer, aren’t you?” Ferdinand scratches the dog’s ears as it barks once more. 

Vestra scoffs but did not comment as he pulls his cloak around himself. 

“Don’t you want to pet him, Vestra?” Ferdinand calls after the man as he attempts to leave. 

“No.” Vestra adjusts his collar once more. 

“At least wait a moment for me,” Ferdinand requests as he leaves his bed. 

Vestra huffs. “Time’s ticking, Aegir.” 

The dog barks as it hops off the bed and waddle closer to Vestra. 

“Ah, don’t do that,” Ferdinand warns as he set the dog back to his bed. Quickly putting on his own uniform as he waves to the dog.

Vestra scoffs.

“Let’s go, Vestra,” Ferdinand says as he smiles nevertheless.

* * *

  
“You are quite good with sword,” the girl says to him as she smiles. “For lancer.”

“And you are quite stellar with the bow as well, Petra,” he compliments. 

“Stellar?” Petra asks as she furrows her brow. “Like stars?” 

“Oh no, not interstellar,” Ferdinand explains. “Stellar as in great.” 

“Oh, I see, thank you, Ferdinand,” the girl says as she smiles once more. “I am sorry for my understanding lack. Fodlan has many words for one thing.”

“It is no sweat off my back,” Ferdinand says before retracting his statement. “It is no problem, Petra. I am glad to be able to help you learn the language of Fodlan.” 

“You are kind,” she notes as she sheathes her sword. “Many not give me chance.” 

“Because you are from Brigid,” he concludes. 

She nods her head as she sighs. “Yes, sadly.” 

“I think it’s rather admirable; that you bother to learn Fodlan at all,” Ferdinand says as he, too, sheathes his own sword. “It is a complex language that many struggles to learn. 

Petra mulls over his words for a moment. “Yes, Fodlan hard but I have better reason.” 

“Oh?” 

“My soulmate,” she says, her eyes softening. “Is from Fodlan.” 

“Oh.” Ferdinand remembers a girl, one with magenta for her hair and eyes. 

“She writes to me in Fodlan.” Petra then frowns. “Wrote to me.” 

“Does she not write anymore?” he asks, feeling strangely curious. 

“No, she does not.” Petra sighs as her shoulders droop. “But I still write, because I hope.”

“Oh,” he says once more. Remembering that night as the girl confessed to him under the stars, as she whispers her secret. Of a soulmate from Brigid, one who tried so hard to please her and one whose words were honest and sincere and how she had wished that they will stop writing to her. How she hoped that one day they’ll be able to find their own future, apart from hers. 

“Bernadetta!” Petra calls as her eyes light up. Shiny and beautiful, something he had never seen before. 

“P- Petra?” Bernadetta calls back as she turns to them. Her magenta hair tied neatly as she smiles gently at them. Her cheeks in a lovely blush and her eyes were shockingly bright, like stars, he thinks, her eyes are like stars now. Interstellar, he thinks, something like stars and all that is bright. “Petra!” 

“I must go, you have good day,” Petra says as she bows before jogging over to Bernadetta. “How is your day?”

“It’s- it’s been alright,” Bernadetta answers as she smiles up at Petra. “S- slightly better, though, n- now that you’re here.” 

Petra laughs as Bernadetta blushes, not like the slight flush of embarrassment that would overtake her cheeks in their chats, but something else. Something more, he thinks, something like- like- 

Oh, he thinks, oh.

* * *

  
“Vestra.” Ferdinand opens the door gently. “I reckon you’ll enjoy this coffe-” 

Vestra sits there, frozen, in his chair as the dog barks from his lap. 

“Oh,” Ferdinand exhales as the dog wags its tail and greets Ferdinand. “Hello there.” 

Vestra stands up abruptly as he puts on a vest, face turned away from Ferdinand. “You saw nothing.” 

Vestra turns to leave, face still turned away from Ferdinand, attempting to wrestle Ferdinand’s grip of the door.

“No- no, I definitely saw something,” Ferdinand exclaims with a smile. “I can’t believe that it really happened.” 

“You saw nothing,” Vestra hisses as he flattens his face against his arm which was braced against the door that Ferdinand refuses to let budge. His jaw hiding in the crevices of his elbow and the only thing that was visible was his forehead and hair. 

“I knew you would see his charm,” Ferdinand continues as he laughs attempting to nudge Vestra away from the door. “Don’t be shy now, Vestra.” 

“Shut it, Aegir,” Vestra warns although there was no way Ferdinand would ever take his threats seriously now. Not when he had seen such a sight. “That mutt has no charm.” 

Ferdinand leans his body against the door to make sure that Vestra wouldn’t be able to rush out before he picks up the pup and cradling it in his arms. It was slightly healthier now, he notes, sitting heavier in his arms and its bone slightly less prominent than before. It licks his cheeks as he gives a little laugh before holding it up to Vestra. Or at least what remains of Vestra anyways. “No charm, you say. Surely you jest.” 

The dog barks as if in agreement. 

_“That mutt,”_ Vestra argues. “Is a tenacious devil.” 

“That managed to worm his way into your cold dead heart,” Ferdinand concludes as he pushes the pup into Vestra’s face. 

“He wormed into nothing,” Vestra protests, his face still buried deep into his elbow as he refuses to move. The pup gives a little yip as its little tongue darts out towards Vestra’s temple. 

“The mutt is a he now,” Ferdinand notes with amusement. “And look, he likes you.” 

“That- it- he-” Vestra stammers, the first time Ferdinand had heard the man so flustered and Ferdinand treasures it. “_It_ will lick anything that is in front of it.”

“Even so,” Ferdinand argues. “You must have not been as dreadful as you claim to be.” 

Ferdinand didn’t need to push the pup as it jumps out of his arms directly at Vestra, Ferdinand lets out a gasp as he reaches out to catch it only to realize that Vestra had caught it first. Using his long arms to buffer the dog before it could hit the floor. Vestra moves fast, Ferdinand notes as he registers that Vestra was now crouching. 

Vestra moves fast if he really wants to. 

Ferdinand muffles his chuckles as he leans down. “You’ve been seen through, Vestra.”

Vestra glares at him, although the pink on his cheeks that was slowly spreading and the fluffy dog that sits on his lap lessons the glare. Rather than the danger that it was supposed to show it was instead, once again, cute. 

So Vestra can be cute as well, Ferdinand thinks distantly as his heart begins to race and his lips begin to smile on their own volition as Vestra continues to glower and Ferdinand’s laughter keeps slipping out despite it being utterly rude and sounding more like snorts than anything charming but-

But it is nice, Ferdinand thinks secretly. 

He does not stop Vestra this time as the man rises to leave, the dog giving a little yip as it jumps off his arms and into Ferdinand’s instead. As Vestra’s black cloak billows behind him once more akin to their first meeting Ferdinand smiles up at him and waves. 

“Don’t leave for too long now,” Ferdinand remarks. “He’ll certainly miss you.” 

Vestra’s face became redder still as the door slams behind him. 

Ferdinand lets out his laughter then as the dog barks in his arms. 

“Such a cute thing you are,” Ferdinand notes between laughs. “To melt his icy heart like so.” 

The dog barks as if agreeing with him.

* * *

  
“So I’ve decided to name him,” Ferdinand declares as Vestra returns; idly tossing the ball to the corner of the room as the pup ran to get it. 

“You’re going to name the thing?” Vestra asks snidely as he shuffles to his own bed. His face still red and his shoulders tense. 

“Oh, please, we’re not going to call him ‘dog’ forever, Vestra,” Ferdinand argues as the dog runs back into his arms. “And don’t pretend that you aren’t interested.” 

“I’m not pretending.” Vestra sets his coat to the side. “I really am not interested.” 

“Sure,” Ferdinand drawls, clearly not believing the statement that Vestra just spoke. “Of course.”

Vestra moves to slump into his own bed, dressed with only a white dress shirt and black trousers. “Well, what is it?” 

“Perhaps you could clarify?” Ferdinand teases. “I do not know what you mean.” 

“The name,” Vestra snaps. “Of the mutt.” 

“And here I thought you weren’t interested,” Ferdinand muses as he feels his lips stretching into a smile once more.

“Out with it, Aegir,” Vestra grumbles as he places his arm over his face. Clearly, to cover his oncoming blush, Ferdinand thinks, knowing the man.

“Well,” Ferdinand drawls. “I’ve decided to name him Aegestra.” 

A beat of silence as Ferdinand can feel Vestra rolling his eyes. 

“So your naming sense is just as bad as your choice in beverage,” Vestra remarks snidely as he scoffs. “I’ve never heard of such a terrible name.” 

“I think it’s perfectly alright,” Ferdinand replies as Aegestra comes running back into his arms. “And he seems to be fine with it.” 

“He’s a dog.” Vestra sits up then and Vestaegir jumps into the man’s arms right away as it abandons Ferdinand. Which was, well, unfair for one. And two, a little cute if Ferdinand were to be honest. “He can’t protest against this horrid decision.” 

“I think it’s quite clever.” Ferdinand crosses his arms as Aegestra snuggles into Vestra’s arms. “You see it’s a-”

“Mixture of our names, I do have a brain, Aegir,” Vestra interrupts as he continues to scratch Aegestra’s ears. “Rather than clever it is anything but.” 

“It is quite unique, is it not?” Ferdinand remarks as Vestra glares at him. “And I am quite fond of this name.”

“And I am not.” Aegestra barks and Ferdinand didn’t know whether the dog is a traitor or not. 

“What would you rather name it then?” Ferdinand huffs. “No, wait, I reckon it will be something that starts with an ‘E’ and ends with a ‘D.’” 

“I would not besmirch Lady Edelgard’s name by associating it with a mutt,” Vestra argues as Aegestra licks his fingers. 

“It would be a great honor to have her name connected with something so valiant,” Ferdinand objects as he gestures towards Aegestra. Wondering as to why the dog still prefers Vestra over him when it was clear who was trying to do what is best for him. 

“Valiant.” Vestra lifts the dog. “Bernadetta is more valiant than this meek thing.” 

Aegestra barks and Ferdinand wonders if the pup agrees or not. And whether he is so taken with Vestra that he’ll bark just to get the man to pet him again. 

“Bernadetta is brave in her own way,” Ferdinand defends. 

“Of course,” Vestra drawls. “But it doesn’t change the fact that ‘Aegestra’ is anything but a valiant name.” 

The pup in his arms bark. 

“See? The name is already starting to stick,” Ferdinand argues. “And isn’t it a rather quaint name?” 

“I do not see how,” Vestra snaps as he unbuttons his shirt. 

“It’s symbolic of our friendship, Vestra.” Ferdinand huffs. “But I suppose someone as drab as you wouldn’t understand.” 

Vestra did not speak for a while, which was odd enough in itself but Ferdinand was preoccupied with Aegestra in his arms to really care as to why the man was so silent. 

“Friends?” Vestra now looms over him with a halfway unbuttoned shirt and mused hair. The messiest Ferdinand’s ever seen him. 

It is a look, Ferdinand admits secretly, it is a very nice look. 

Feeling his cheeks starting to catch fire Ferdinand clears his throat. “Yes, friends.” 

“We’re friends?” Vestra repeats as Ferdinand rolls his eyes. 

“Yes, Vestra, now-” 

“When?” Vestra sounds on the edge of shouting or fainting. Which was, well, a terrible response to Ferdinand’s declaration of friendship and a tad bit rude. 

“When we started having tea parties, Vestra, do keep up,” Ferdinand replies dryly as Aegestra runs towards Vestra and starts yipping at his ankles. 

“I don’t understand,” Vestra says and Ferdinand rolls his eyes once more as he scoops the dog back into his arms. 

“Well, I don’t take you for a man who would understand the intricacies of friendship anyway.” Aegestra attempts to jump out of Ferdinand’s arms and back to Vestra again, which is just-

Ferdinand sighs and lets the dog jump back into Vestra’s frozen form. 

“What did you think we were, Vestra?” Ferdinand asks with crossed arms. 

“Enemies?” 

Ferdinand huffs. “Enemies don’t have weekly tea parties, Vestra.” 

“They aren’t tea parties,” Vestra defends weakly.

“What do you classify them as then?” 

Vestra did not reply, could not reply. Which was, one, the second time he had seen the man speechless. And two, proved Ferdinand’s point. “Exactly.” 

“But,” Vestra argues. “We- I-” 

“We are friends, Vestra,” Ferdinand states. “Or at least I consider us as such.”

“Friendship takes two, Aegir,” Vestra snaps.

“Do you not think of me as a friend?” Ferdinand asks as something terrible wells up in his chest. Bringing down his earlier cheer. 

Vestra frowns and refuses to answer and perhaps that was an answer of its own.

“I never knew that the prospect of being my friend was so implausible to you,” Ferdinand drawls. 

Vestra did not respond and Ferdinand frowns before standing up. He dawdles by the door, hoping that Vestra would say something, speak up and say- say what? That he didn’t consider them friends? That Ferdinand was delusional for ever thinking that there could be anything other than animosity between Vestra and Aegir?

No, best if Vestra were to never say anything at all, Ferdinand decides. 

“Well, I guess I had a severe misunderstanding, Vestra,” Ferdinand says as he leaves the now suffocating room.

* * *

  
“Ferdinand,” his professor greets. “What are you doing here?”

“Professor.” Ferdinand nods towards the woman. “Nothing much I’m afraid, just had a spat with my-” Not friend, Ferdinand thinks to himself as his frown deepens. “roommate is all.” 

“Oh, Hubert?” the professor asks as she sits down next to him on the bench. “What did he do?” 

“You assume him to be the one in the wrong?” Ferdinand laughs slightly but his mood was still clouded by his earlier argument. 

“He isn’t the… best when it comes to social etiquette,” his professor answers. 

“Yes, he isn’t,” Ferdinand agrees as the silence descends upon them once more. Neither he now his professor saying anything at all as they watch the sun sets from the bench. It is a nice sight, Ferdinand must admit, if it wasn’t for the damper on his mood he might’ve enjoyed it more. Which once again makes him even angrier at Vestra. 

“I thought that we were friends,” Ferdinand begins. “But it turns out that he thought we were still enemies.” 

His professor winces.

“Exactly,” Ferdinand laughs. “Terrible misunderstanding. It was partly my fault though, for assuming that we were friends when he gave no indication of such but-” 

Ferdinand sighs. “We were getting better, but I suppose there’s a line between our family that can’t be crossed.” 

“I think Hubert considers you a friend as well,” the professor says softly. “It is not obvious, with the way he acts, but it is clear enough to me.” 

“He treats me like everyone else, Professor,” Ferdinand argues. “I said we got better but we started as bitter enemies and now he thinks of us as normal enemies or at the most, acquaintances.” 

“Hubert does treat you better,” the professor repeats. “For example, I seem to recall him giving you advice on magic, yes?” 

Ferdinand nods, remembering Vestra’s snide comment of. “Too much mana, are you overcompensating for anything Aegir?” 

“Well, he does that for none other,” the professor continues. “He also protected you from a bandit the other day, yes?” 

“Yes, but he would do that for anyone else, Professor.” 

“No, I’m afraid Hubert’s answer to that would be ‘I find that letting them learn through pain is best,’” the professor mimics as her voice drops. Ferdinand laughs slightly. 

“That does sound like him.” 

“With Hubert, it is likely that even _he_ doesn’t know the way he treats you,” the professor muses. “And is most likely oblivious about what a friend is beyond Edelgard.” 

“He is more like a butler than a friend to Edelgard,” Ferdinand says. 

“Exactly.” 

Ferdinand laughs once more. 

“It is little things like that, Ferdinand that you need to look for when it comes to Hubert,” the professor says softly. “I would know, dealing with Seteth myself.” 

At first, Ferdinand couldn’t quite see the comparison between Vestra and Seteth, but as he ponders them more he realizes that, when it comes to interaction with others, they were mainly alike. 

“Little things, you say,” Ferdinand repeats. “Huh.”

Ferdinand thinks of Vestra, then, and the way he would wake Ferdinand up before class, he thinks of the way Vestra would snidely remarks on problems that Ferdinand had solved incorrectly and the way he would sigh as he corrects him, he thinks of Vestra and the way Vestra would reach out to steady him as he mounted his steed and the insult for him to not fall, he thinks of Vestra than as he rebuffed Ferdinand’s constant attempts to learn magic but would roll his eyes as he taught Ferdinand the right chants. 

He thinks of this as he smiles and jumps back to his feet. 

“Thank you, Professor, I’d best be off now.” 

“Good luck, Ferdinand.”

* * *

  
“Vestra-” Ferdinand begins as he opens the door. 

“Aegir.” A dog was promptly shoved into Ferdinand’s face. “Aegestra has been barking nonstop ever since you left.” 

“Vestra, what-”

“It was annoying, really,” Vestra continues as the dog tries to claw Ferdinand’s eyes out. “And you best not leave again lest our neighbors report us.”

“Firstly, neither Bernadetta nor Petra would do such a thing, and neither would Linhardt and Caspar,” Ferdinand says as he separates the dog from his face. “And most importantly, did you just say Aegestra?” 

“It is the mutt’s name,” Vestra says reluctantly as red spreads across his cheeks. 

“So do you accept our friendship then, Vestra?”

Vestra huffs. “What do you think, Aegir.” 

“Well, I think that,” Ferdinand answers as Aegestra stopped trying to murder him. “You best answer me or else Aegestra is going to bark again.”

“... Yes, yes we are,” Vestra says reluctantly, face pinched together as though he’d swallowed a lemon but Ferdinand smiles either way. 

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

“Incredibly difficult,” Vestra argues as he continues to kneel in front of Ferdinand, who collapsed on the ground himself. 

“Do you want to test me again, Vestra?” Ferdinand teases as he leans against the door. “I’m afraid my feelings are still fragile from earlier.” 

“As if anything about you is fragile, Aegir,” Vestra argues. 

As if on impulse Ferdinand says. “Call me Ferdinand, Vestra.”

“First names now?” Vestra drawls but it seems like his confidence was back. “Do you have no bounds for your demands?” 

Ferdinand huffs. “Well, what will it be, Hubert?”

“Oh, you remember my first name,” Vestra- Hubert notes. “Very interesting.”

“It is not hard to remember, not with your terrible first impression,” Ferdinand says. “Now, stop distracting me from the subject, Hubert.” 

“I am not distracting you from anything, Aegir.” Ferdinand gives him a kick as Hubert rolls his eyes. 

“Ferdinand, there, are you satisfied?” 

“Very.”

* * *

  
“I’ll be taking Aegestra out for a walk today,” Ferdinand says. 

“What business is it of mine if you do?”

“I just thought that maybe you wanted to take him out instead.”

“That’ll never happen, Ferdinand, now go.”

* * *

  
“You claim to hate pets,” Ferdinand notes. “So why is Aegestra so attached to you?”

“Ask him yourself,” Hubert replies as the man lays on his bed with a book in his hands and Aegestra in his lap. 

“Tell me, did you trick him with your nefarious ways?” 

Hubert only scoffs.

* * *

  
“Oh, is that Bergamot?” Ferdinand inspects the tea, nothing the brand as quite expensive. “Why, you didn’t have to, Hubert.”

“Yes, it’s Lady Edelgard’s favorite.” 

“I have my own tea,” Ferdinand rejects as he tosses the thing back to Hubert’s smirking face. 

Now that he thinks about it, Bergamot was his soulmate’s liege favorite tea as well. 

“Of course a man like you can’t understand Lady Edelgard’s refined taste.” 

Well, it is popular amongst most nobles, Ferdinand dismisses as he sets Aegestra on Hubert once more.

* * *

  
“Watch it, Hubert,” Ferdinand yells as he pulls the man onto his steed. 

“That wouldn’t have killed me,” Hubert argues as he reluctantly settles behind Ferdinand. 

“That would’ve injured you, nonetheless and I would hate to make Linhardt have to heal you.” 

“That would be a first now, wouldn’t it, Ferdinand,” Hubert remarks. “After all the injuries _you_ made him heal.” 

Ferdinand huffs. “All in the past now, Hubert. Now, tell me how does it feel being saved by me again?”

“Terrible.” 

“See if I save you next time.”

* * *

  
“What a sight,” Hubert remarks as he bandages Ferdinand’s arm. “What was it you said last time?” 

“Shut it, Hubert,” Ferdinand groans. 

“‘See if I save you next time,’” Hubert mocks as his voice raises to a high falsetto. 

“My voice does not sound-”

“Don’t worry Ferdinand,” Hubert continues to mock. “At least I’m competent enough to not make Linhardt have to heal you.” 

“Hubert-”

“How does it feel to be saved by me again?”

Ferdinand tackles him despite his broken ribs protesting.

* * *

  
“Are you serenading me, Hubert?” Ferdinand remarks as he approaches the grand piano. “I’m flattered, really.” 

“Fortunately, this is not for you,” Hubert says as his fingers stretch over the keys of the piano, “This is for the celebration of Lady Edelgard’s birthday.”

“I’m surprised though.” Ferdinand shushes Aegestra. “I did not take you for a man who would play an instrument.” 

“I wasn’t,” Hubert agrees. “But then someone convinced me otherwise.” 

“Oh?”

“My soulmate,” Hubert answers softly as he begins to play a soft melody. “They ranted about a duet and I was too tired to fight them on it.” 

“I see,” Ferdinand notes, knowing that there was something strange about the statement but did not think further on it. “I happen to play the violin.” 

Hubert’s fingers slip then. “Oh?” 

“Yes, since I was a child I’ve been taking lessons. In fact, I only stopped once I attended the academy,” Ferdinand explains with a fond smile. “I still have my violin stored inside my room.” 

“You seem like the type to play.” 

Ferdinand laughs. “I suppose, but I tried to convince my soulmate to play the piano as well, funny coincidence, is it not?” 

Hubert’s fingers slip once more as he goes offbeat. 

“They also said that playing instruments was utterly useless and said how I was only good for useless things,” Ferdinand recalls as he laughs. “They said that I seem like the type to become a wastrel.” 

Hubert seems to stop playing completely. 

“I hope that I’ve proved them wrong,” Ferdinand continues. “But, ah, it is not like they can see me now.” 

“I suppose,” Hubert says slowly, his fingers regaining is previous speed. 

“If you’d like I can play a duet with you,” Ferdinand offers. “I may require a bit more practice but I’m sure it’ll be wonderful.”

“Indeed,” Hubert says as he stands. “I’ll be heading back for today.”

Ferdinand waves him off as he turns to the piano once more. Trying to recreate the image of his soulmate as they play alongside him. 

Their hair would be dark, he imagines, dark just like their dreary personality. Their fingers would be long as it would elegantly stretch out over the keys of the piano as they play. They would smirk up at him as they play in accompaniment to each other, their smile mocking but fond, he imagined. 

Their eyes he had imagined to be dark, like their hair. 

Yet now he thinks of light green eyes instead, ones so light that you could almost mistake them for yellow. 

Light green, he thinks, like Hubert. 

And oh, wasn’t that a thought.

* * *

  
It is odd afterward, Ferdinand begins to look for little things in their conversations. He begins to look at Hubert and inspecting the man’s every feature. Begins to take note of the man’s dark hair and how nicely it matches with his light eyes. Begins to notice the way he would smile slightly around Aegestra and let the dog play with his precious pens. Begins to notice how nice his jawline is and how handsome he looks in his uniform. Begins to notice how warm his hands are and how soft it is. Begins to notice how his name sounds on the man’s tongue and how the name Hubert can roll off his own. 

Ferdinand begins to register all of these things and things turn odd.

* * *

  
“Are you taking Aegesra out for a walk?” he asks from his bed. 

“It is merely so that it wouldn’t bother me later,” Hubert responds as he turns to leave, cheeks once again fetching a fair red as usual when it comes to the slightest hint that he actually cares. 

“Have fun, Hubert,” Ferdinand says as he smiles. 

Hubert smiles back before leaving and oh-

His smile is nice, Ferdinand thinks distantly as he buries his face into the pillow. Very nice.

He screams into the cushion.

* * *

  
“Are you going anywhere today?” Ferdinand asks. 

“It is Lady Terain’s birthday, today,” Hubert answers. “You wouldn’t know her.” 

“Oh,” Ferdinand exhales softly. “Regardless, I hope you’ll enjoy yourself.” 

“Doubtful, but thank you,” Hubert replies as he turns to leave. 

“Wait,” Ferdinand calls as he moves from his desk. “Something’s off.” 

With quick strides Ferdinand comes up to Hubert as he adjusts the man’s cloak and collar, patting it down as he smooths over the creases. 

“There,” Ferdinand announces with a smile. “Now you’re presentable.” 

When that was all done and over, Ferdinand realizes how close he stands to Hubert and quickly falls backward as he laughs nervously.

“Thank you, Ferdinand,” Hubert drawls, and Goddess, when had anyone ever said his name like so?

“I- it is no trouble,” Ferdinand says as he waves the man off. 

So Hubert looks good in formal clothing as well, Ferdinand notes and his cheeks want to burn off.

* * *

  
“Here,” Hubert says as he hand Ferdinand something. 

“What is this for?” Ferdinand asks as he inspects the package. 

“It’s Southern Fruit blend,” Hubert says. “Your favorite.” 

“How did you know?” Ferdinand asks as his throat dries. 

“You are more open than you like to think, Ferdinand,” Hubert answers as he returns to his work. 

“What is it for?”

“Consider it out of the goodness of my own heart, small as it is.” 

The tips of Hubert’s ears are red and Ferdinand is sure that hearts aren’t supposed to beat this fast.

* * *

  
It begins like this: Ferdinand lounging in his room as Hubert once again takes Aegestra out for a walk for the reason of trying to tire the dog out so that it wouldn’t bother him later. For some odd reason, Ferdinand’s eyes catch on something yellow peeking out under from Hubert’s pillow. 

It continues like so: Ferdinand, strangely drawn by the yellow parchment reaches over to the man’s bed and slides it from under the pillow. 

And it ends like this: Ferdinand sees his own handwriting, from years ago, written on it as it says, _“Good day, I look forward to knowing you.”_

* * *

  
“Ferdinand-”

“Bernadetta-” 

They both stop as they register the other’s words. Both letting out nervous laughter. 

“You go first, Bernadetta.”

“No, no, you- you first, Ferdinand.’

“No, please, speak your mind.”

“It- it wouldn’t be right.”

“You first.”

“No, Ferdinand, p-please you go.” 

“If you insist-”

“Very- very well-”

“- I’ve found my soulmate,” they spoke in unison. And- “Oh.”

“Who is it?” he asks her as she blushes.

“It’s- it’s Petra,” she answers and really, Ferdinand should’ve known. “What about you, Ferdinand?”

“Uh, well, it’s-”

“It’s Hubert isn’t it,” Bernadetta suddenly spoke. “I- I mean, it’s likely that I’m wrong but- oh Goddess why did I-”

“You’re right, actually,” Ferdinand says shakily. “He is my soulmate.” 

“Oh my Goddess!” Bernadetta yelps. “R- really?” 

Ferdinand laughs faintly. “I suppose so.”

A strange silence falls between them as the sun shines bright in the sky. Both their faces, he realizes were red and there was something like determination in her eyes that he’d never seen before. 

And with a strange clarity he _knew._

“Let’s break our engagement,” Ferdinand says as he smiles at her.

“What? F- Ferdinand you-” Bernadetta shrieks as she reaches for him. “I- I don’t want to abandon you like- like that-”

“I’ve always wished for you to be happy, Bernadetta,” he says. “And I’ve always regretted that you wouldn’t ever get to live your happiest life with me.” 

“Oh, Ferdinand,” she whispers as she leans into his arms. 

“Now you can be happy, Bernadetta,” Ferdinand concludes as he runs a hand through her hair. “And it would be my pleasure to grant you that happiness.” 

“W- what about you, Ferdinand?” she asks as her hands wrinkles his blazer. “You- you might n- never-”

“Don’t worry about me,” he says, already knowing the words that will come out of her lips. 

That is the difference between them, for she’ll be Countess Varley but he’ll become the next Duke Aegir. They were never equal in their status and their responsibilities differ. 

For a countess can abandon her post but a duke can never leave his behind. 

“I wish you a happy future, Bernadetta.”

“We- we’re still friends, right?” she asks nervously. 

Ferdinand laughs. “Of course, Bernadetta, we’ll always be friends.” 

“I wish you the best of luck, Ferdinand, don’t let anything stop you,” she says softly as her hand trail his jaw. With iron in her voice and the same fire in her eyes. It is a good look on her, he thinks as he smiles.

“Let nothing stop you, not even your father.”

* * *

  
Ferdinand was called home that week, his father’s handwriting was ugly with his wrath. 

“You- you dare!” his father yells as he grabs Ferdinand’s collar. “What is this rumor about the engagement dissolving, boy?” 

“It is what it is, Father,” he answers as he pushes his father backward. “I and Bernadetta are no longer engaged.”

“You- you-”

“She has found her soulmate and I find that there is no reason for me to stop her from pursuing her love,” Ferdinand answers solemnly.

“She’s your fiance!” his father yells, his voice a shrill pitch. “That’s enough of a reason to stop her from running off with that- that barbarian!”

“Petra,” Ferdinand enunciates. “Is not a barbarian.” 

His father’s fist comes to swipe at his face and he pushes him back. As he watches the man stumble backwards he realizes how short his father is. How much taller he is now and how much stronger he is than the man that he once thought unbreakable. 

He realizes this and something hot begins to burn within him. 

“I am an adult now, Father,” Ferdinand says to both his father and himself. “And you cannot control me anymore.”

“Who do you think made you heir, boy?” his father spits. “Certainly not that Varley girl and her barbaric soulmate!” 

“Go then, make someone else the heir,” Ferdinand shouts back. “Oh right, you don’t have any other options!”

“You think I won’t make someone else my heir?” his father sneers. “Bastards will be better than a rotten fool like you!”

“Go ahead then, Duke Aegir, make them the heir.” Ferdinand throws the Aegir crest onto the floor. “Make those bastards of yours the heir and I’ll be glad to rid myself of you!”

“You- you-”

“You can’t, because that would ruin the Aegir prestige, right?” Ferdinand yells. “As if you hadn’t already ruined that by sleeping with that mistress of yours even before my mother’s body was cold.” 

“You- you-”

“Is that all you can say, Duke Aegir?” Ferdinand asks mockingly. “For all that I am your son, I’ve never felt that you were my father.” 

His father’s hand rises to slap Ferdinand and Ferdinand punches him first. 

“I’ve warned you,” Ferdinand says. “I’m not willing to take your punches anymore.” 

His father groans as Ferdinand spits at him, feeling an inferno roar within him as he stands atop a man who he had wished were better. A man who he wished he could’ve called father, not out of a formality, but from his own heart. A man who he wished was a good man, a good duke. A man who he had wished would act more like a father than a pervert. A man who he had wished would spend more time with his family instead of beauties. 

A man who he had wished would be his father instead of whatever beast this is. 

Ferdinand realizes that he does not wish for that man anymore.

“I’ll be leaving now, Duke Aegir,” he says finally. “Feel free to disown me if you wish, but I’ve found my own soulmate.”

The duke groans.

“And this time, you cannot stop me from my future with them.” Ferdinand closes the door behind him, letting the boy who had wished for a good father finally rest as he walks away.

* * *

  
“Miss Farland,” he calls as he greets the woman who looks the same as the day he had left. “It seems like I haven’t given up on my soulmate, after all.’ 

She smiles at him. “You were always a stubborn boy, Ferdinand.” 

He laughs as she gestures for him to follow her. 

“I’ve kept it for so long that they were starting to gather dust,” she complains. “I thought, for a split second, that you’d never come.” 

She opens her door, a small thing. But probably a decent sized room for a maid. “But now you’re here.”

A familiar weight rests in his hands once more as familiar yellow parchment stares back at him. 

“Remus took two days to find it for you, you know,” she comments. “But he was always too fearful of your father to tell. And that boy was heartbroken when I returned that day, with these notes still in my hands.” 

“Thank you, Miss Farland,” he chokes. “Say thank you to Mister Westley for me.” 

“Of course, young master.” She gives him a bow as she smiles once more. “Now, off you go.” 

He runs.

* * *

  
He dashes into the room as he slams the door open. 

“What is it-”

He tears the note off as it turns into orange wisps. Soon manifesting in Hubert’s hands as he smiles. 

“My name is Ferdinand von Aegir,” he says with a wide grin that was utterly unfitting for a noble. 

Hubert looks at him, really look at him, as he gets up. The man approaches him with quick strides as he pushes the door close and pining Ferdinand to it. His face was mere breathes away and up close he is even more handsome, Ferdinand thinks, and he says so. 

Hubert blushes then but then he smiles. It was an awkward and soft thing but Ferdinand feels that his heart stops all the same. Feeling his heart and wondering if Hubert could hear it as well. 

His light green eyes were wide and framed nicely through his dark lashes and dark hair falls over his eyes as he looms over Ferdinand. The scent of coffee was on his clothes and his fingers were long and cool as it touches Ferdinand’s face gently as though he feared that a touch stronger would crush him. 

“I’m Ferdinand von Aegir,” he finally, finally says as he leans up. “And I look forward to knowing you more, Hubert von Vestra.” 

His lips are soft, Ferdinand notes as he finally falls back onto the balls of his feet, soft and nice and-

“I should’ve known it’d be you, Ferdinand von Aegir,” Hubert says softly as he leans down.

“Who else would be willing to endure your infuriating personality?” Ferdinand teases as he hooks his arms around Hubert’s neck. 

“Plenty, but none would be as annoying as you,” Hubert says back as his hands braced on either side of Ferdinand. “And none so handsome.” 

Ferdinand blushes then as he laughs. 

“And here I thought _I_ was the charming one.”

“You are.” Whispered softly as warm lips fall onto his once more. 

There was a time when Ferdinand had imagined meeting his soulmate, just once. A time where he had wished to share a drink with his soulmate, just once. And a time where he had wished to bid his soulmate farewell, just once. 

But now Ferdinand cannot think of anything but being by his infuriating and utterly maddening soulmate’s side for the rest of their days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a longass chapter my dudes, but I didnt want to separate it since I promised you guys and this fic's ending was getting delayed too many times. I had a bombass time writing this lmao i'll certainly miss this au for sure.
> 
> Thank you for reading this, feel free to leave a kudo and please leave a comment on what you liked, what you didn't liked, and your thoughts. Reading all the comments and replying to them make me so happy and thankful! <3

**Author's Note:**

> hope ya'll enjoyed it! this'll be a quick au in sticky notes and soulmates. quick angst but guaranteed happy ending that'll be hitting next chapter! Come holler at me in my chill discord! code: BeQKa4J
> 
> please leave a comment on your thoughts to make the author super happy!


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